


#5:After May

by Winchester_Writer



Series: The Mama Spider and Baby Spider Series [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Depression, Gen, Guilt, Mentions of drugs, Recklessness, Suicidal Tendancies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 00:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20399002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_Writer/pseuds/Winchester_Writer
Summary: May's death is driving Peter to the edge, can Natasha pull him back?





	#5:After May

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say that this one hit home for me... it was a hard one to write. I have suffered a very close loss in my life and I deal with these thoughts and ideas practically everyday. It is a struggle and a battle everyday. If you are feeling the same way, please know that you are not alone. You will be okay, we will be okay. We have each other.

May's death was the worst thing that Peter had ever gone through. It was like his entire world came crashing down at once. His Aunt, his mom, his support since he was a kid, was ripped away from him in one night. A couple of days after her death, Tony had found him. Peter moved to Stark Tower and had his own room there. He was living there for a couple of weeks and Tony thought he was improving. 

They had the funeral and Thanksgiving was yesterday. Peter was now officially calling him Dad, and he thought that everything was all good. Tony was very, very wrong. 

Peter wasn't sleeping, the nightmares too violent, he couldn't focus on school or work, he felt empty. He was losing it, he was going crazy, at least that's what Peter thought. 

A couple of weeks later and he had just started patrolling again. He was being reckless, really reckless, he was getting in street fights, making the fights go longer than they had to. At least in the suit he was protected, he couldn't get too seriously injured. Peter Parker however, could get injured. Peter himself was becoming more and more reckless. He was walking through dangerous areas, talking back to muggers and gang members, and trying to pick fights. His school record was going down hill as well. His A's had all dropped down to C's and he had quit Decathlon. His heart just wasn't in it anymore. He wanted to feel something other than the gaping hole in his chest. Peter wanted to hurt or bleed or be punched, just something besides the pain. 

It felt like there was something missing, like a part of his heart had been ripped out and he couldn't get it back. It was like free-falling into a dark pit with no end, no bottom to hit. Like he would be falling forever and would never be able to stop it. Peter took to cooking dinner at least twice a week, every week. One night, he burned his hand on the stove and looked down at it. He realized that he barely felt it, the pain barely registering in his brain. Peter vaguely wondered if this was something that he should be concerned about, but he shrugged the feeling off. 

The next day, Peter skipped school. The halls made him think too much, he’d end up reminiscing about the times he had and it simply added to the bone-crushing depression he felt. 

His bones felt like metal pipes, hollow and clinking together. The clanging in his soul drowning out any sounds from the outside world. His heart felt like a metal spoon held in loose wrists, being tossed to and fro against his rib cage, hurting more and more with every step he took.

Natasha was the first one to notice Peter’s decline. He was in the training room practically everyday, punching anything and everything. One day she noticed that Peter walked out with blood dripping from his knuckles. She had scowled at the sight, but hadn’t said a word to him. The next thing she noticed was all the bruises and cuts he was gathering from the fights he was getting into. 

A month after May’s death and Peter made a mistake, a really big mistake. He was walking down a sketchy alley-way and a man approached him. 

“How much money you got on you, kid?”

“About 50 bucks, why?”

“Ever tried cocaine, kid?”

“No.”

“I’ll trade you.”

“No, I think I’m good.”

“I can tell something’s wrong, kid. There’s something causing you pain. This’ll take it all away.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Peter had never handed over 50 dollars so fast. He looked into the bag and saw a bunch of pills. The guy told him to take two pills and then just wait, he’d start feeling good soon after. Peter popped two of the pills and then waited, hoping that it would ease the pain he was feeling. Instead, the pain he was feeling emotionally, became physical. He was throwing up, violently, his chest heaving and sweat pouring down his face. Peter felt like he had the flu, mixed with a cough, and hallucinations. After about 30 minutes of hell, Peter knew he needed to call someone. 

He reached for his phone and dialed Aunt Natasha. 

“Hey, Peter, what’s up?”   


“Tasha, sick.”   


“Where are you Pete?”

“Alley, 42nd.”

“I’m on my way.”

Natasha quickly tracked Peter’s phone and was to him within 5 minutes. When she got out of the car, she was dumb-founded. Peter looked like absolute crap. He was pale, shaking, sweaty, and she knew that he must have thrown up at least once or twice. Natasha ran over to him and helped Peter walk.

“Come on, Pauchok, you’re okay.”

He threw up one time on the way to the Tower and then again when they finally got up into the lab. He had stumbled into the bathroom and was violently ill. He stopped throwing up and then looked to Natasha.

“What happened, Petey?”

“Made a mistake, Aunt Tasha.”

“What did you do, Pauchok?”

“Guy in alley, offered me these pills, said they’d take away pain. I took em.”

“Why, Petey?”

“May.”

That was all Peter had to say and the pieces clicked together easily. The kid was just trying desperately to escape the pain he was feeling from May’s death.

“Alright, Pauchok, I understand. Let’s get you into bed and then we can talk more tomorrow, okay?”   


“Okay.”

Natasha helped Peter get into bed. She stroked the top of his head, running her fingers through his hair as he shivered. Natasha began to sing in Russian, knowing that it would help him sleep better. Peter woke up 6 times throughout the night to throw up. By the time morning came, the drug was finally out of his system and he could function properly.

“Thanks for everything, Aunt Natasha.”

“You’re welcome, Pauchok.”

“I’m sorry I made such a bad mistake. Please don’t hate me.”   


“I don’t Pete. I’m actually quite proud of you.”

“Why?”

“Because even though you made a mistake, you realized you did, and you had the courage to call an adult and admit that you did. That’s what a responsible teen would do and I’m proud of you for it.”

“Oh.”

“Peter, you miss May, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

“And I think you’re trying to fill that hole in your life. But I’m gonna tell you something, okay? You can’t really fill that hole, not with anything you can take or drink or anything like that. You can fill it with May’s love and memories though. That’s the only way you’ll heal.”

“Okay, Aunt Natasha.”

“And I’m here for you, Pauchok, if you ever need to talk or just need cuddles.”

“Thank you.”

Two days later, Peter took her up on her offer for cuddles. Natasha was hoping that he was getting better, but was also keeping a close eye on Peter. A week later, she was really glad that she was still monitoring him. Peter was about to make a decision that would shape his life forever. 

Peter was out patrolling and noticed a truck parked outside of a home. The guy from the truck was trying to break into the house. He started to walk up when Karen stopped him.

“Peter, I highly suggest that you simply call the police and remove yourself from the situation.”

“Karen, what’s wrong?”

“Peter, please listen to my advice.”

All of the sudden, Peter realized that the truck looked familiar. The front end was smashed in and he could barely read the license plate. He finally did and the only thing he could see was red. That was the truck that hit May, which meant… he was going to kill him. 

“Miss Romanov, I suggest you go to Peter right away. He is about to activate instant kill mode.”

Natasha cursed under her breath and ran down to hop on her motorcycle. Karen filled her in on the situation as she rode to Peter.

“Bam!” Peter threw the man against the truck. 

The man groaned and tried to shimmy away.    


“No, you don’t get off that easy! You killed her!”

“I didn’t kill anyone!”   


“Do you remember hitting a car on November 12th?”   


The man racked his brain for a second and then went white. 

“Yes.”

“You killed her!”   


Peter threw the man the opposite way, his body hitting against the building and then sliding down. He was coughing and a couple of ribs were broken.

Peter was seeing red, rage filling his body, his mind, and his heart. There was a thrumming  in his ears and it was so loud that he didn’t hear the hum of Natasha’s motorcycle speeding towards him. 

“Karen, activate instant kill mode.”

“Peter,”   


“Instant kill, now!”   


“Activating instant kill.”

Peter lined up to shoot a deadly web, that’s when another spider got entangled in it. 

Natasha grabbed his arm and the web hit the building a few feet above the man’s head. 

“Pauchok!”   


“Aunt Natasha?” Peter was yelling, still filled with rage.

“Stop, now. This isn’t you, little spider.”

“He killed her. It was him!”

“I know, Pauchok, I know. Karen told me everything, that’s why I came here.”

“Then you know I have to do this. He killed May!”   


“You don’t have to do this. This won’t solve anything.”

“It’ll get rid of the pain!”   


“No it won’t Peter! Is this what May would have wanted?”   


Peter faltered at that. He let the tears flow freely and slumped against Natasha. 

“No, no. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Pauchok, I’ve got you.”

She held him there until he whispered out another command.

“Deactivate instant kill mode, permanently.”

“Good job, my little spider.”

Police showed up a little while later and arrested the man. Natasha took Peter back to Stark 

Tower and made him some hot chocolate/courage juice. Peter wasn’t speaking at all, just sitting, having a silent panic attack. Natasha couldn’t help him right now, all she could do was ride out whatever this was and walk with him every step of the way. 

“It should have been me, not May,” Peter said aloud.

“That’s not true, Peter and you know it. Now come on, I think it’s time for some sleep.”

Natasha walked Peter to his room and then tucked him in, kissing his forehead. 

“Sleep well, my little spider.”

“Goodnight, Aunt Natasha.”

Natasha walked out, closing the door behind her. She walked into the lounge and sat down  on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can save my little spider this time,” she thought.

“It should have been me, not May,” Peter whispered into the room. 

The words echoed off of the wall and resonated within him, the metal pipes he called bones  clanging inside his chest, reminding him just how painful everything was. 

“It should have been me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
